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The Crimson Sorceress
Chapter 1: Westward the Corsairs “Wait up, mate!” A dark red vixen was racing down the cobblestone street that led to the jetties of Hydra Island. Her companion, a youthful brown and white stoatmaid, laughed over her shoulder. “I ain’t waitin’ up, ya’ll have ta catch up, Crimson!” Crimson shook her head, her short black headfur flying about her freckled face. “Ya’re a royal pain, Lark! Anyway, da only reason we havin’ ta run like ‘dis is ‘cause ya slept in an’ Darkkeel is due ta leave in five minutes.” The stoatmaid shrugged, her blue dress slipping off one shoulder. “Wot can I say? I don’t like gettin’ up at da crack o’ dawn.” The two maids sped across the splintering planks of the jetty and up the gangplank to collapse on the deck of their ship. Lark chuckled and skipped around a gasping Crimson, seemingly unaffected by their dash to the ship. “Told ya we’d make it.” Crimson glared at her from her bent-over position, too breathless to speak. “Cuttin’ it a bit thin, ain’t ya, Lark an’ Crimson?” A tall stoat was staring at them, his green eyes sparkling with laughter. Lark’s ears turned a deep shade of pink, much to the other stoat’s quiet amusement. “Uh, we kinda overslept.” Crimson had finally managed to catch her breath and the vixen uttered an indignant splutter at Lark’s words. “No, ya’re da one who overslept. I had ta wake ya up an’ ’den ya took ‘bout an hour gettin’ dressed. It ain’t a fancy ball, so I don’t know why ya took so long ta get on some simple clothes.” The stoatmaid’s ears turned even redder. “Wull, ‘scuse me fer tryin’ ta look decent instead o’ wearin’ da same style o’ tunic in different colors day in an’ out!” Crimson’s mouth curled into a grin, revealing her sharp white teeth. “Aye, an’ we all know who ya was tryin’ to look decent fer, right, Alder?” Alder chuckled and gave Crimson a playful shove. “Ach, get away wit’ ya.” He turned to the blushing Lark, who looked as though she wanted to sink into the deck and disappear. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ tryin’ ta impress cap’n. ‘Though I gotta warn ya, he’s a tough ol’ bugger an’ probably won’t be phased by a pretty maid.” He winked at Lark, whose face blushed red. “Alder! Ya forgot somethin’!” A sharp feminine voice hailed the stoat. Somebeast was stalking towards them, her heels cracking like whiplashes through the air. The newly arrived stoatmaid stopped in front of them and placed one paw on her cocked hip. Crimson met her challenging violet glare with one of her own. “Wot da ya want, Hazel?” Hazel smiled condescendingly at the dark red vixen. “Why, I merely wished ta say goodbye ta me mate o ‘course.” She wrapped her arms around Alder’s neck with a jingling of bangles and kissed him. Alder looked distinctly uncomfortable at this public display of affection and uttered a soft sigh of relief as she let him go. “Have a good trip, mates. Oh and Crimson, ya might wanna stay outta da sun. It’ll give ya more freckles ‘den ya have already.” Lark laid a reassuring paw on Crimson’s shoulder as the vixen looked as though she wanted to attack Hazel. The stoatmaid gave her a mocking little smirk before turning on one heel and stalking off with her hideously short skirt swinging around her legs. Crimson muttered a very rude term about Hazel’s type under her breath before she turned to Alder with a challenge in her green eyes. “Why in Hellgates do ya date dat wench?” The stoat shrank back a bit at the look on her face. “She’s nice ta pretty much everybeast ‘cept ya two. I’ll have a word wit’ ‘er. Ya’re me friends, so maybe she’s jealous.” The vixen huffed and marched off, her curly locks bouncing against her navy tunic. Lark raised an eyebrow at Alder. “Dat’s no excuse. She needs ta fix ‘er attitude.” “An’ iffen she don’t, I’ll fix it fer ‘er!” Crimson couldn’t resist a last snark over her shoulder. Lark flashed a look at her that said not helping, before she turned back to Alder. “Ya might want ta stop datin’ barmaids. I mean, ya can get nice ones like Rafina, but Hazel’s type is nothin’ but trouble. Anyway, ya know wot she’ll do as soon as we’re out o’ port....” The stoatmaid trailed off as she realized how angry Alder was looking. “Look, I jest don’t want ya ta get hurt agin.” Her mouth quirked up in a bit of a grin. “An’ honestly, I’m a bit worried ‘bout Hazel’s health iffen Crimson gets ‘er paws on ‘er after dat crack ‘bout ‘er looks.” Alder shook his head, an expression she couldn’t read on his face, before he walked off in the direction of the mast. Lark stared up at the now billowing white sails and suppressed a miserable sigh. Where on earth had she gone wrong with that interaction? “Lark, come on! Ya’ve got ta see our cabin!” Crimson came running back on deck, clearly have banished her earlier bad mood from Hazel’s comment. The young stoatmaid turned her gaze to her friend, blinking back the single tear that had stood in her eyes. “Wot’s da matter wit’ it?” The vixen jumped in place, her face shining with kitlike excitement. “Wot’s da matter wit’ it? Nothin’! It’s awesome! It’s way, way bigger ‘den our room at da boardin’house.” Lark wrinkled her nose, not sure whether to believe Crimson, who had a tendency to over exaggerate, or not. “Honestly, Crimson, our room ain’t dat small compared ta some in dat place. ‘Dere’s jest a lot o’ orphans like ussens an’ older beasts who needs housin’, so naturally it wouldn’t be big.” The vixen paused for mere seconds before she commenced her bouncing. “But’s it’s huge! An’ we can look out over da sea an’ ya jest have ta see it!” Crimson grabbed Lark’s paw and half-dragged her below decks. She swung open a door and revealed a spacious cabin with two hammocks swinging from the ceiling. A small porthole gave them a view of the turquoise waters typically found in tropical areas. Lark smiled happily at her friend. “Awesome! We’ll have da best view o’ Sampetra from ‘ere when we come inta ‘dere port!” Crimson flopped back into one of the hammocks. “I remember when Cap’n chose ussens fer ‘dis mission ta Sampetra. I was so proud dat day.” She grinned, remembering that afternoon. “Ya almost fainted when ya found out.” The vixen’s eyes sparkled mischievously at her friend. “Especially when ya found out dat Alder was on ‘dis mission.” Lark frowned at Crimson. “I was excited ‘cause as orphans in communal housin’, we was lowest o’ da low. But Cap’n offered ussens a chance ta get out o’ it an’ become corsairs. It wasn’t ‘cause Alder was comin’ ta!” Crimson laughed, setting her hammock swinging with a tap of her footpaw. “Dat’s wot ya say, Lark. Dat’s wot ya say.” The vixen closed her bright green eyes and rested, enjoying the soft creak of the hammock and slight rocking of the ship. Lark lay down in the hammock beside her and quickly dropped into slumber as the waves rocked her to sleep. Crimson rolled over and looked at her sleeping friend. Lark was smiling in her sleep and she murmured something that sounded a lot like Alder. The vixen knew that Lark’s feelings for Alder ran far deeper than a simple crush. “I’ll get ya two tagether some’ow, Lark. I can’t watch ya heart break as dat dumb stoat keeps datin’ more barmaids who jump on any malebeast as soon as ya leave port.” Crimson stared at the ceiling, memorizing the swirling patterns of the wood as the Darkkeel sailed on over the tropical seas. One of them looked like a flame; a flame that flickered blood red in the darkness; held by somebeast with one evil violet eye. “You could do great things with magic, you know.” The raspy voice that echoed about Crimson was clearly female. “I can show you many things. Join the forces of the Ruby. Join us and forget about your friend. She is weak and merely cares about love. The Dark Realm awaits you.” The dark red vixen staggered back in fright, eyes darting madly about the darkness; trying to see who was addressing her. “Ya mean, leave Lark?” The voice sounded as though the beast talking to her was smiling. “Yes, Crimson. Leave her. She is a burden. Join us and you will have power beyond your wildest dreams. One day, you will take over the world with us. I know that you can speak to spirits. It will serve you well here. You can talk to our Lady; have your own Shadow Beast and be able to communicate with no training at all.” Crimson was shaking in her seaboots, although she was trying to hide it. How did this nightmare beast know her name and, more importantly, how did she know about the secret she had kept hidden for so long. “How da ya know alla ‘dis? Who are ya?” The voice answered her, a note of impatience clear in its tone. “I know a lot more of what goes on on Hydra Island than you might think. I cannot lay foot on the island, but I am able to track your ships.” Crimson shook her head slowly, her black headfur swinging around her face. “Ya’re creepy. I don’t know who ya are but ya’re a stalkin’, power-hungry monster. An’ ya never told me who ya were.” There was silence for a long time, before a bone chilling sound filled the air. The nightmare beast was laughing; laughing like Crimson had never heard a beast laugh before. The awful noise reached a crescendo before dying away, leaving its terrifying sound echoing in the darkness. “My name is Amethyst!” Her voice shrieked over the dying echoes of her laughter; filling Crimson’s ears until she could hear nothing else. “Crimson, Crimson!” Somebeast was shaking her, a note of concern evident in their accented voice. “Crimson, wake up!” The vixen’s eyes snapped open to see Lark leaning over her. She smiled down in relief at Crimson’s scared face. “Dat must have been one heck of a nightmare!” Crimson shook her head quietly. “Heck don’t even describe dat one. ‘Dere was somebeast named Amethyst tellin’ me ta join somethin’ called...” Lark broke in, smile gone from her pretty face. “The Blutrubin? The Blood Ruby? Or jest da Ruby?” Crimson nodded, before the realization of who had been talking to her hit. “Amethyst. Da leader o’ da Blutrubin. She wanted me ta join; said I could do great thin’s wit’ magic. An’ dat she could track our ships. An’ dat she knew ‘bout me spirit sensin’ powers.” The vixen lifted a scared green gaze up to Lark. “She knows everythin’.” Lark looked terrified, one claw twisting her a lock of her headfur into knots. “O’ course she does. Alla da early Hydra Islanders was slaves o’ ‘er proxies. Some left ta become pirates like da Sampetrians. But most stayed on an’ did nothin’ oder ‘den board ships and rob others. We were robbers, but not murderers, lessen we was driven ta it. But Amethyst an’ ‘er Blutrubin are all murderers an’ worse, ‘dey’re magic....” She broke off as a sharp knock sounded on the door. Crimson sprang out of the hammock and hurried to open it. Alder stood in the door, his features knotted up with worry. “Why was ya talkin’ ‘bout da Blutrubin?” Lark answered him, her voice low with fear. “‘Cause Amethyst used ‘er dream magic on Crimson. She wanted Crimson ta join.” The stoat turned to stare at Crimson; his eyes reflecting her panic back at her. Lark finally broke the long silence. “But why would she want Crimson in ‘er ranks?” Alder just shook his head, before he was finally able to voice his concerns. “‘Cause she wants ya dead an’ Crimson ta become one o’ ‘er mindswept proxies. I tink she knows dat Crimson has a sensitive side ta da spirit realms.” The vixen shuddered, remembering her first experience with a spirit. She had been young, only a kit, walking in the gardens of the orphanage, when an old, transparent weaselwife had lunged at her, one gnarled paw wrapping around her throat. Lark had came into the gardens to find Crimson kicking at an unknown force, her eyes bulging like she was being strangled. At her shocked cry, the weaselwife released Crimson and faded from the fox kit’s vision. Pushing away the bad memory, Crimson asked her stoat friends. “How in Hellgates would Amethyst know dat I can sense da spirit realms?” Alder and Lark looked at each other and than back at her, before Lark spoke, voice quivering. “Maybe....maybe she’s stalkin’ ya so ya can be more ‘den ‘er proxy. Maybe she wants ya ta be like Twilight, da greatest proxy ta walk ‘dis earth an’ supposedly sent straight from the Shadow Lady herself.” The three young beasts stared at each other in silence, contemplating Lark’s words. Could it be that Amethyst wanted Crimson to be like Twilight? The thought was beyond their worst nightmares. Category:Original Stories Category:Fanfiction